Been There, Been Back
by kurdasmahlt
Summary: COMPLETED! actually it was done last year but I was too lazy to upload. RR pls, it sounds boring but it's kinda interesting... XP
1. Chapter 1

The decision made was amazing yet extraordinary.

"But…" Larten started, but Paris cut him off.

"I'm sure all of us agree that this does not tally with our laws currently, but I can also say that no one here wants to see Kurda being executed."

Kurda kept his mouth clamped shut, for he knew he was not in a position to say anything. The Hall was completely silent; everyone was mulling over what Paris had said.

"But there is one big problem," Mika addressed the Hall. "Does anyone know of a suitable place to hold the traitor?" At these words, the Hall was filled with whispers. Kurda gave a few small coughs and all eyes fell on him. He questioningly up at Paris, asking for permission to speak.

"Speak," Arrow growled.

"I know of a place," Kurda said, ignoring the gasps behind him, "where there is only one way in and out. It is located not far from the main Halls." the Princes thought over this proposal for a few minutes before Paris spoke.

"Bring us to see this cave," he ordered. Kurda bowed and started to lead the Princes.

"Hang on," Daren rushed to Kurda. "Why… Why did you…"

"Suggest a place?" Kurda smiled. "Remember what I said after I beat Arra on the bars? One's heart judges that person, not other people's opinion. If I don't tell what I know, I won't respect and like myself."

Later, after a lengthy inspection of the cave, the Princes decided to use it. However, the Princes wanted to make a few changes so Mika was given the task of talking to Kurda.

"Thirty years, no more, no less," Mika told him. "Daily necessities such as food, blood, water will be provided, but nothing else. No one is to give you any outside things without our permission."

"Can I have paper and a few pencils?" Kurda asked. Mika nodded.

"Your chains, Kurda," he said, pointing at his wrists, "will be enforced at all times. The only time you can move out of your cell is one hour per week, you get to choose the day and time. Enjoy yourself."

"So sarcastic," Kurda mumbled under his breath.

He was escorted into the cave by two guards, both of whom he knew quite well. Despite the change in position, they still addressed him as General Smahlt. The umpteenth time they called him that, Kurda waved his hand impatiently.

"Don't keep calling me that." The guards smiled apologetically.

The inside of the cave as exactly as when Kurda first found it, but clasps had been fixed to the wall. Kurda walked inside it feeling a bit apprehensive, his stomach churning round and round.

"We will be the only two guards, Kurda," the first guard explained. "Therefore we seek your cooperation not to created trouble." Kurda grinned at them mischievously then grew serious and nodded.

The first time as he was about to doze off, the guards approached him.

"We need to chain you up tighter," they explained apologetically. "Sire Skyle and the rest do not want to risk you escaping." Kurda sighed and sat up as they clasped him. They put something on his ankles with a piece of steel about ten centimeters long. They also changed the chains on his hands to a shorter one.

"We will be asleep as well, so it will be quite easy to escape, if you want that weighing on your conscience. That night, as Kurda curled against the wall to sleep, he suddenly remembered Darren and Vanez. What were they doing?

Four days later, Kurda could bear the boredom no more. He asked the guards if he could go out for an hour and was granted permission. A quick look around and he slipped down a tunnel, all the while looking behind him to see if anyone was following, until…

"BOO!" Darren grinned and stepped out from behind a rock. Kurda took a step back, astonished.

"Hi! Why didn't you tell me you will be going out today?" Darren grumbled. Kurda gave a little laugh. They walked down the tunnel together in complete silence, when Darren slapped his head as though he had forgot something, and went the other way round.

"Come with me!" he beckoned to Kurda. Kurda grimaced and followed him up the tunnel and into another tunnel, until he came to a stop.

"What the…" Kurda started to ask, and then halted abruptly as he saw an injured wolf cub whining piteously. Blood was oozing out of its right front leg, which looked as though it had been broken badly. Beside it, a male and female wolf looked on concerned, but unable to do anything. Kurda let the wolves catch his scent before carrying the cub up.

"Anywhere to treat it?" Darren asked.

"My cell, come on!" Kurda sidestepped the wolves and flitted up the tunnel. Darren ran up together with the wolves up to the top where Kurda was, examining the cub's leg.

"I need a first aid kit; can I go to your room?" Kurda asked urgently.

"Sure!" Darren nodded then led Kurda to his room then handed him a first-aid kit. The cub whined loudly as Kurda carefully put a cast and bandaged up the broken leg.

"Leave it with me for the time being. Oh, and by the way, how did you find me? And how did you find the injured cub?" Kurda enquired quizzically.

"I found the cub by chance. I was exploring the tunnels when I heard its whining. As for you, in case you haven't noticed, your chains are very noisy," Darren explained. Kurda threw back his head and laughed.

"You're smart," he praised Darren.

When Kurda brought the cub to his cell, the two other wolves tagged along. Kurda shrugged and put the cub down.

"Can you provide these wolves with food? My leftover bread won't do. I need milk," Kurda told the guards. They nodded and said that they would do what they can.

"Meanwhile, just make do, ok?" Kurda said as he tore the bread meant for his lunch into shreds and fed the wolves. They barked happily and gobbled up the lot, leaving Kurda nothing to eat. Kurda raised his eyebrows and gave the wolves water as well.

That night, the cub snuggled up next to him while the two older wolves went out to hunt. They brought back a deer they killed and shared it among them, but looked at Kurda as though asking him if he wanted to have some. Kurda grinned and shook his head.

The next day, the two guards came in and clasped him to the wall, saying that he had important visitors. When Darren walked in with Paris and Mika, Kurda raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, so they wanted to make sure I don't assassinate them," he muttered. The wolves were sleeping, but snapped awake the moment the crowd arrived.

"Greetings," Kurda bowed his head. His arms clasped at his sides, making him look like a crucifix.

"Bless me, Jesus," Darren poked fun at Kurda.

"Ha bloody ha," Kurda laughed bleakly, then diverted his attention to the two Princes.

"Oh, we just came in to see why you needed extra food. Now we know," Mika explained.

"That cub's injured. Badly broken leg," Kurda said jerking his head towards the cub, whose leg still stuck out at an odd angle.

"And we also thought you should know - Darren is a Prince," Paris said.

"If I were in any position to hug you, I will. Good work, mate!" Kurda smiled at Darren.

"Thanks!" Paris tugged at Darren's shirt, meaning that he had to leave. But Darren shook his head.

"I want to stay," he insisted.

At first, the guards refused to let Kurda down for Paris had given his orders, but Darren persisted. However, the guards did not believe that he was a Prince. In order to settle this dispute, Kurda cleared his throat loudly.

"I'll stay the way I am," he said. The guards gave an 'I won!' look to Darren before exiting the cave.

"Honestly," Kurda sighed. Darren carried the cub up and put it on Kurda's shoulders.

"Why do you choose to stay like that?"

"I love being Jesus. Not really, just that I don't want to trouble Paris. If they complain…" Kurda shook his head. Darren shrugged and carried the cub to the top of Kurda's head. Kurda wriggled and Darren burst out laughing.

When Darren was gone, the guards came in and placed two fat bowls of milk and boar meat in front of Kurda.

"It's not for you," they told him.

"I know," he snapped back. "Do you know who that vampire was? He really is a Prince!" The guards looked horrified.

"Really?"

"He was made one because of me," he explained, exasperated. "He was the one who discovered my plots, stopped it from succeeding. He also found a way to dispatch the vampaneze. But, I owe him my life, if he had not spoken up for me, I won't be standing here now." The guards, after hearing his words, exited the cave in low, terrified whispers. Kurda banged his head on the floor and fed the cub the milk and meat. He even gave the cub a bath with the water that was meant to be drunk. After that, he took off the cast and examined the wound.

"Hey, little one! You're healing fast. In three weeks time you will be bouncing and leaping around again!" Kurda told the cub. It wagged its tail then shook its body, spraying Kurda with water. Kurda got up and started to play with the cub, laughing as they played catch around the cave.

The laughter echoed around, until it reached Paris's ear.

"Imagine that! Kurda is imprisoned yet he can laugh that merrily while we cannot," Paris commented.

"He takes every thing in his stride, that Kurda. I rarely see him look gloomy," Larten gave a dry laugh.

"He has, and he always," a voice insisted behind. Vancha March walked towards the crowd, which comprised of Darren, Larten, Mika, Vanez and Paris.

"That idiot, worries about laws, customs, our relationship with the vampaneze et cetera," he explained.

"It's just that he does not show it, that's all. He has his own worries, his own problems, and his own troubles. But to him, his own personal feelings are nothing much compared to the clan's, therefore he seems very happy-go-lucky."

"No wonder," Vanez said, happy to have unearthed the reason for Kurda's supposed happiness.

"I suppose… I suppose you know… you know what happened?" Mika asked cautiously.

"Of course!" Vancha waved his hand impatiently. "It's like the most tremendous news ever. I bet even vampires in far-off lands must know."

"You… you're not upset?" Darren asked.

"Why should I be?" Vancha shrugged. He lowered his voice. "You executed him? Has he been cremated yet?"


	2. Chapter 2

Once Kurda was gone, Vancha collected himself.

"He's alive?" he asked incredulously.

"As alive as anyone here, and even keeping three wolves!" Larten shook his head. Vancha's mouth flew open. Arrow clasped a hand to his forehead and sighed helplessly. Darren shrugged.

"Can I see him?" Vancha asked.

"Anytime you wish. He is in a cave not far from here," Paris replied and gave Vancha directions. Vanez gave a loud yawn.

"Time for bed, I think."

That night, Vancha crept up during midday to check on Kurda. The guards snapped awake and made to go in to inform Kurda and chain him when they saw the Prince, but Vancha silenced them and went in. Kurda was curled up against the rock he had been sleeping at since he came in and the wolves were on either side of him, giving him warmth. Kurda was smiling and he looked perfectly content. He stirred suddenly and aroused the wolves, which started barking. Kurda snapped awake immediately and stared cautiously around, until he caught sight of Vancha.

"You should have told those vampires outside you were coming," Kurda relaxed and berated him.

"Oh, must I?" Vancha raised his eyebrows.

"Ok, I know you're a Prince, but you scared the living hell out of me. And aren't you afraid that I will assassinate you or something?" Kurda winked mischievously.

"No," Vancha grinned. He settled himself down and scanned Kurda from top to toe.

"You've grown," he remarked.

"Oh? Length-way or height-way?"

"Both!" Vancha replied playfully. He expected Kurda to get up and chase him but he was wrong.

"What's up with you? You used to chase me whenever I made cutting remarks."

"Now, it's different. Firstly, I don't want to give wrong impressions to others that I'm about to hack you down or something. Secondly," Kurda's voice was low and Vancha could tell that he was ashamed and embarrassed, "I have chains all over me, in case you haven't noticed. I am forced to wear them as 'reinforcement'. Thirdly, I am not a General or your sidekick anymore. I'm a traitor, a prisoner, and would have been executed if not for my intentions and Darren's pleas."

"But… but despite all these, you seem to be having fun. You were smiling in your sleep!" Vancha asked, perplexed.

"To tell you the truth, I feel more carefree than I have ever been, knowing that it's no longer my place to care about the outside world," Kurda explained. Vancha nodded mutely. The cub leapt onto Kurda's laps and he absent-mindedly patted it.

"Darren found the cub and I nursed it, so now it has grown so attached to me that I gave it a name, Furball," Kurda smiled, seeing the questions in Vancha's eyes.

"Actually, I find that you're a riddle, and I will never be able to uncover its answer. There are a lot of other questions I want to ask, but I guess I need to go. Hopefully once I have the time, I will sit you down in the Hall of Princes and we'll have a good talk," Vancha got up to leave.

"That's nice," Kurda agreed, and practically pushed Vancha out.

-Has he hit the nail on the head? That I'm a riddle that no one will ever understand? People think I'm a traitor but saw my intentions at my trial. Then I was sentenced to living in this…dump? Prison? Or maybe… even heaven. Am I having fun? I do admit I feel more carefree than I have ever been since I heard the news concerning the Lord of the Vampaneze. But am I right when I said that it's no longer my place to worry about other matters apart from myself? If I meddle and ask, Paris may not like it, not to mention Arrow. But is it too selfish of me just to withdraw myself after so many decades of participation in this area? For all I know, Paris and the others may just be waiting for me to ask about these things, or just to show that I even care. But on the other hand, if I ask they may ignore me… so now, what do I do? I can't just call Darren over to ask or Vancha, but… Vanez! He'll help.-

"You asked for me, Kurda?" Vanez stepped into the cave moments later. Kurda nodded and gestured for him to sit down.

"I'm facing a huge dilemma here," Kurda started, then continued to tell Vanez about what he thought about and how he felt. When he was done, Vanez put a comforting hand on Kurda's shoulders.

"You and Paris must have some sort of link in your hearts because only yesterday, Paris asked me over to the Hall of Princes to see if there was any way to convince you to take a more active part in the meetings. He admitted that without you, they cannot make head or tail of anything concerning the vampaneze since you were the one who usually deals with these matters." Kurda chewed his lower lip. Vanez looked at Kurda comfortingly.

"I need some time to think it over," Kurda admitted, then smiled briefly. Vanez took that as a cue for him to leave.

For the second time, Kurda obtained permission to go out of his cell. He went to look for Darren, wanting to ask him for some suggestions. As he walked towards his room, he picked up twigs and dry blades of grass, as well as two rough but small stones. Unfortunately for him, Darren was at the Hall of Princes. Shrugging his shoulders, he started to go down to one of the lower caves of Vampire Mountain. Midway, two Generals hauled him off to a deserted tunnel.

"We're conducting a strip search on you," they informed him. Kurda frowned slightly. He had never heard of it before, but he surmised that it was something like a body search. He nodded.

"OK. You face the wall and don't move," the Generals commanded. They then felt their way up Kurda's robes, checking for any weapons or prohibited items.

"Good, now take off your robes," the Generals said.

"What?" Kurda gasped in surprise, and then fell silent as he realized that he had no power to overrule these vampires. As he was taking of his robes, the leaves and twigs fell out together with the two rocks. The Generals picked it up.

"What's this?" they asked.

"For fire," Kurda replied casually, thinking that it did not really matter. However, he was wrong.

"You come with us to the Hall of Princes now," the Generals said as they threw his robes back to Kurda.

"For what?" Kurda asked, perplexed. The Generals did not answer him and minutes later, they were standing in front of Paris, Mika, Darren, Vancha and Arrow.


	3. Chapter 3

"What?" Mika asked wearily. Apparently, they must have had a long night. Kurda shrugged his shoulders and listened as the Generals reported their findings. As he listened on, his eyes grew rounder and rounder. He was not the only one surprised. Darren was staring at them, jaws open, while Vancha was glassy eyed. Paris was scratching his ear.

"That's it? A couple of twigs and stones for fire is enough for someone to be reported for assassination?" Mika asked incredulously. The Generals started arguing with the Princes about what Kurda could do with that and the noise level grew higher and higher. Finally, Kurda lost his cool

"Shut up!" he yelled and immediately, every vampire fell silent.

"I. do. Not. Mean. To. Assassinate. The. Princes," he spoke clearly, word by word. "Vancha blooded me. I studied under Vanez Blane. One is a Prince while the other respects the Princes. I tried to – that's a fact – for the sake of my plan, but apart from that, I have absolutely no reason to kill them. All of you present here have either luminous lichen or flame torches in your rooms. Me? Nothing. I don't think our laws state that trying to create fire independently is something taboo."

"I agree," unexpectedly, the person who agreed was not Vancha, but Larten Crepsley. "He may be the worst person in the universe, but he is still a person. He has a right to survive. He needs food, air, water, blood and everything that we need. Therefore I think that it is right to give him this bit of light." Kurda smiled lightly. It was nice to know that at least there was someone who stood by his side. The Generals that brought up the complaint were looking so mad that they looked ready to kill. One of the Generals in attendance requested for a check.

"Fine," Kurda shrugged and allowed the guards to strip him.

Halfway through, a deafening clang echoed around in the room. Those at the back craned their necks to see what had happened, while those in front were stunned – a dagger fell out from Kurda's robes! The guards picked it up for examination and certified that it was deadly, whether for stabbing or throwing. The Princes turned to Kurda, disbelief in their eyes.

"It's not mine!" Kurda protested hotly.

"Oh? Then why was it in your robes?" the General who had requested the search asked. Now, the Generals who had charged Kurda were looking very smug. Confused, Kurda shook his head.

"I don't know." Now, everyone was discussing it at length among themselves. It was until when a senior General call upon the judgment of the Princes did they quieten down.

The Princes discussed it at length before Paris spoke.

"Execution," he said somberly.

As the guards approached the platform to escort Kurda to the Hall of Death, Kurda drew himself tall.

"I did not do it," he spoke word by word, very clearly, locking eyes with the vampires present. "All of you here believe it, I'm sure. Clearly, this is a plot. Its purposes are obvious. But I repeated. I. Did. Not. Do. It." He turned to the Princes. "Don't try to fish out the culprit or anything. I forgive the vampire who did it, and may our gods forgive him too."

Head held high, he made the death touch's sign then walked out.

At the Hall of Death……

Kurda stared at the ceiling of the Hall as the Guardians of the Blood bound him tightly to the bars of the wooden cage. In a few moments, the cage will be hoisted up, and then it will plummet onto the pointed stakes below, ending his life after a few times.

The sound of the wooden cage door slamming aroused him from his reverie.

"Ah well, this is it," Kurda muttered. Looking back up at the ceiling, now drawing nearer, he shut his eyes, mentally blocking out all senses. Accordingly to his 'philosophy', no one can fight their destiny, so now, if he was to die this way, he would rather accept it quietly than to fight it.

The cage dropped on to the stakes with a sickening sound of a tire puncture. The crowd of vampires stared on as the cage went up towards the ceiling again. Although Kurda's back now looked like a pincushion, none of the stakes had gone straight through, which was considered lucky for as the cage was dropped for the second time, the Princes burst in.

"Stop!" Mika yelled, as Vancha and Darren rushed to Kurda with a team of medics.

"We know what happened, and we are not planning on telling anyone," Paris announced, before going to check on Kurda.

"Is he alright?"

"What do you think? Would you be alright after being impaled on stakes for two times?" Darren exploded angrily.

Four nights later……

Kurda struggled to open his eyes. Other than the constant throb of pain in his back, he was hardly aware of what had happened. He also had been vaguely aware of vampires bustling around, but the few faces which appeared most – Larten, Vancha, Darren and the medics – seemed very distant, like a passing dream. He felt like scratching himself, yet he realized that he was chained. The rattling of the chains aroused Darren and Vancha, who were sleeping beside his bed.

"You're awake! I thought… the medics…" Vancha sputtered, too happy for words.

"Don't worry…. I'm not… dead yet," Kurda croaked, then tried to take in his surroundings. However, all was a blur. "Where am I?"

"Your previous room," Darren informed him. "Except we took out your coffin and put in a bed instead." Kurda smiled, and then grimaced from the pain. Vancha immediately rushed out from the cell to get the medics. Darren stared at Kurda with a hard-to-read expression.

"Guess you… all still… don't… really… trust me," Kurda stared down at the chains again. Unexpectedly, Darren burst into tears. Kurda stared at him, astonished, and then squeezed his hand comfortingly. In between the two good friends, no words were exchanged, yet they knew somehow what each other were thinking.

Just then, Paris came into the room.

"You OK?" Arrow asked.

"Funny… you should… ask. I'm… fine," Kurda replied.

"That's good," Paris grinned.

"Not that …good, actually," Kurda contradicted him. "If you don't …mind, can you …release me? The chains …are killing me." Paris looked at Mika uncertainly. Mika and Arrow nodded before Vancha simply broke through the metal. Rubbing his freed flesh, Kurda smiled gratefully.

"Thanks!"

"I have not seen you laugh since you were caught," Larten noted, while Darren nodded vigorously. Kurda's smile grew wider.

"I thought I …told you not to …check?" Kurda asked.

"We didn't; the culprit admitted it himself," Vancha replied. Kurda nodded then chewed on his lower lip, trying to work out the pain. Vancha patted his shoulder then left with the rest of the Princes.

In the next few weeks, Kurda spent his time trying to stand. Every other night the medics would come in to change his bandages. Even though Kurda did not see the real state that his back was in, he knew that it was very serious. There was also the problem with his eyesight.

"I'm sorry, but you hit your head hard against a stake so part of the brain had been damaged," the medic told Kurda. "You can see colors and lights, but you will not be able to make out anything- everything will be a blur to you." Kurda nodded and controlled himself until Darren and Larten came in.

"The medics said I cannot see anything," he told Darren dejectedly, tears threatening to come. He blinked a few times, looking away. Larten stared at Darren, tongue-tied. Both of them knew how important it was to Kurda. If he cannot see clearly, how can he do mapping? How can he write? At that moment, everyone, even the usually chattering Vancha - who had come in after Darren did - was at a loss for words.

"You'll learn to manage it," Darren said half-heartedly.

"True. Kurda, you have a long way ahead of you. Just treat this as a setback and work harder to beat it!" Larten encouraged him, even though he himself did not really believe it. Kurda heaved a sigh.

Fate – he would just have to accept it.

Five months later…

"Here," Kurda handed an essay to Paris. "The essay you wanted." As soon as Paris got hold of it, everyone crowed around to see it.

"Oh my god!" Kurda heard Darren gasp.

"Anything the matter?" Kurda asked anxiously, afraid that there might be some error. Darren shook his head mutely and continued to stuffy the piece of paper Paris was holding as though it was an ancient artifact. He was not looking at the content, but at the handwriting. The medics' hard work had not been in vain. Despite his eyesight, Kurda had regained his confidence. His handwriting, for an example, had improved vastly. From the crooked, untidy scribble it was a few months ago, it was now a smooth flow of words, every letter beautifully slanted as Kurda was a left-hander.

"Not bad," Paris commented, after skimming through it. "If that is all, Kurda, then we will be taking our leave." Kurda nodded and accompanied them to the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Since the incident, Kurda saw an improvement in life. True, he was still undergoing a sentence, but no longer in the cave. He stayed in his cell now, although he was not allowed out for twenty hours per day. He could go out for an hour at dusk, an hour at dawn, and another hour at noon. The other hour was devoted to 'confinement' in the Hall of Princes, discussing matters with the Princes. Other than a more relaxed regime, the food had improved, with the occasional boar meat, despite the fact that Fur Ball and its parents have returned to the wild. Another plus side was that he longer had to wear chains, except for leg shackles and handcuffs when he went to the Hall of Princes.

Kurda yawned and stretched himself, before wincing. Even after such a long period of time, he had not fully recovered from his wounds yet. A bit depressed, he stared in front of him, trying to make out any shapes. The result was a splitting headache. He relented, and then threw himself bodily on his bed. That was a replacement for his coffin, for his back hurt terribly whenever it came in contact with a hard surface.

The door opened. Kurda strained his ears to see who the visitor was. Now, he had to rely on his ears. He learnt how to distinguish between footsteps of two different people and his guesses were normally correct.

"Hi, Vanez!" Kurda waved and moved over, creating a space for his mentor.

"Not bad! You can distinguish between all of us now!" Vanez grinned and made himself comfortable.

"Thanks to you and the rest," Kurda brushed the compliment off lightly.

"So how's life?" Vanez asked.

"Same as any day," Kurda admitted. "I wake up; go out, walkabout a bit, and then I have to come back here. I try and see if I can regain my eyesight – something I reckon impossible – or else I'll just do a bit of writing or just mop around until dawn, when I go out again. Then two hours later, I get shackled up and bundled off to the Hall of Princes for an hour. When I get back, I get cracking on whatever work Paris wants me to do. At noon, I finish my work, before sleeping. When I go out, I try to avoid the dining Hall, I can't eat, you see."

"I gather you lead a pretty boring life," Vanez commented.

"It's not my fault. OK, it is, but I didn't think I would survive!" Kurda complained. Vanez grinned wider.

"Serve you right."

"Hey!

When his meal was pushed in through a flap in the door, Kurda flung himself on it immediately. As he groped around for the mug of blood, he noticed someone by the door, watching. Leaping to his feet, Kurda backed away warily.

"Relax," the person laughed and said.

"I don't trust anyone," Kurda retorted fiercely. Just then, the door opened again and from what Kurda guessed, quite a large group of people had stepped in.

"Nice to see you, Kurda," another voice said quietly.

"Hibernius?" Kurda asked nervously.

"Bingo! Hi Kurda!" the first person who entered gave a huge shout and gave Kurda such a big hug that he was swept off the floor. Grinning, Kurda slowly eased the man away.

"Still in the show, Cormac?"

"Yes."

"Kurda, the Cirque Du Freak is here at Darren's invitation to witness his investiture," Hibernius explained in his usual quiet manner.

"Thought we'd pop in!" Hans Hands added in excitedly. Kurda smiled. It felt almost normal to be back, chatting with old friends. Just then, Vancha burst in with Darren and Larten. He glanced around at the full room and gave Cormac a murderous glare, before grinning playfully at him.

"Hi, Hibernius," Larten acknowledged the owner of the Cirque. Vancha nodded while Darren waved.

"Oh my god, Evra Von!" Darren roared and gave Evra a bear hug. Evra grinned happily and the pair went out to talk.

"Why don't you take the rest of the Cirque on a tour of Vampire Mountain? I need to discuss some things with Kurda and Larten," Hibernius suggested to Vancha. Vancha nodded and beckoned the rest of the Cirque out, bickering with Cormac Limbs along the way.

"Are you two speaking to each other?" Hibernius asked. Kurda and Larten looked uneasily at each other.

"To be honest, no," Kurda explained. "But he did stand up for me when I was caught with stones and other stuff needed for lighting a fire. He also did encourage me when I lost my sight partially. Why?"

"Just curious," Hibernius managed a fleeting smile.

That night, dinner was a major affair. The Hall of Khledon Lurt was reserved for members of the Cirque and the Princes only. The crowd also included, to much surprise, Kurda.

When Kurda arrived, he was seated in between Darren and Cormac. The guards then cuffed his legs to the chair. Darren helped Kurda get his food; while in the meantime, Kurda was trying to resist something that Cormac was trying to feed him.

"Geoff me, you idiot! What in the name of Khledon Lurt is that?"

"Can't you see?" Cormac forced it down Kurda's throat.

"Relax, it's only broth," Darren, upon seeing the scene, explained to Kurda. Kurda heaved a sigh of relief and started shoving food down his throat.

"What!" Cormac stared at Kurda, still uninformed about his current situation.

"What?" Kurda demanded, having felt his stare.

"Oh my God! I didn't… I didn't know that you were blind!" Cormac continued staring at Kurda incredulously. Bewildered, Kurda 'stared' at Cormac for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter that everyone looked at him in amazement.

"Come on, I'm not blind," he explained, still laughing. "Accordingly to our medics, I can see colors and lights, but am unable to make out any shape." As soon as he had calmed himself down, he began eating like a hungry ghost again.

"Slow down! You'll eat yourself to death, you know," Larten remarked casually, taking a swig from his mug of ale. Mika and Paris nodded vigorously in agreement.

"You won't understand. You eat these food everyday till the sight of it makes you want to puke, but I don't. I'm not fussy, but I'm sure if you had undergone a diet of only dry bread for a few moths or even years, you will also gobble up these things on the rare occasions you get them." He continued eating, but noticed an awkward silence around the table. He grinned suddenly.

"I'm not scaring you or sticking up for myself or whatever, so don't worry too much. It's not worth your concern. Besides, bread isn't that bad."

Almost at once, the merry atmosphere resumed. Vancha and Cormac started hurtling abuses across the table; Paris and Larten were deep in talk; Mika's head was drooping onto the table; Arrow was snoring while the Cirque members murmured among themselves.

After seeing Kurda shift awkwardly in his seat for the thousandth time, Darren bent down and snapped apart the chains.

"I owe you one there," Kurda grinned and rubbed his sore ankle.

"You'll have to pay back double for that," Darren grinned evilly and slapped Kurda on the back.

"Ouch!" Kurda yelled as Darren pulled his hand back in shock, horrified that he had forgotten that Kurda still had wounds on his back. However, Kurda shot a Murder One stare at Darren and chuckled.

"Ha! Hope that had taught you a lesson not to fool around with me!" Kurda said with a tint of smugness before leaping out from his seat and running around the Hall playing tag with Darren.

"So much for a clear-headed vampire," Arrow grumbled, woken up from his reverie by Kurda's teasing.

The next few days before Darren's investiture were very rushed. Twenty-four hours a day did not seem enough. To top it off, Paris's health got so bad that Darren actually suggested postponing his investiture. However, Paris refused to let his failing health intervene the celebrations. Everybody was involved in the celebrations one way or another. As Kurda was not allowed to participate, he spent most of his time in the Hall of princes chatting with Paris. In only a few days, the pair had covered everything there is to talk about in the universe.

On the night of Darren's investiture, Paris was already very weak, even though he put up a happy face, and Kurda had to support him, which was very difficult as Kurda was chained up even tighter than usual. Paris was shivering as though he was suffering from a bout of flu and Kurda, Larten and the other Princes feared for his health.

The first part of the investiture flowed along smoothly. However, at the banquet, Paris was nowhere to be seen. Just as the Princes were about to go out and search for him, a vampire came in the Hall, eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Sires, Sire Skyle has been found. He's dead!" a fresh wave of sadness overcame the vampire and he began to sob again.

"Where?" Arrow growled and shook the vampire's shoulders.

"Quite… quite a distance… he … he must have collapsed!"


	5. Chapter 5

Immediately Kurda and the others rushed out of the mountain and started searching in the wilderness around. Owing to Kurda's stronger sense of smell, they found him, lying next to a severely wounded bear.

"Oh, my God!" Darren gasped and nearly passed out as he saw the gross sight. Blood was flowing out of Paris's body's every wound, dying the snow around crimson, most of his bones were broken and the splintered bits stuck out of his flesh at odd angles. The sight of his body was so revolting that even the afraid-of-nothing Arrow turned his head around. Kurda need not ask for descriptions; the blood seeping into his shoes told him everything he wanted to know.

By now, Darren had broken into great big sobs. He put his head onto Larten's shoulder, and Larten patted him comfortingly, even though the corners of his own eyes were shimmering with tears. Mika was in a state of senses disarray. He simply stood rooted to the ground, staring blankly at the mess. It was Kurda who gave the orders for Paris's body to be brought back to the mountain for cremation.

"Are you cold-blooded or something?" Arrow asked in a steely tone.

"No," Kurda replied, calm as ever. "He sneaked out in the middle of the investiture unnoticed so as to not spoil the mood of everybody. He would not want us to mourn his death at this hour."

But from Kurda's silence as he walked up to the Halls and the unnoticed tears that rolled to the floor, he definitely hurt more inside than anybody else.

"Why him?" Vanez crossed his arms. It was already a month after Paris had been cremated, and most vampires had gotten over his death already. However, this brought a problem. As the saying goes, a country cannot be without its ruler for a day, Mika and the other Princes had to elect another Prince to fill the space left behind by Paris. Majority had voted for Larten, but he refused again. Then something incredulous happened.

"Yes?" Kurda asked as he stood tiredly in front of the vampires congregated in the Hall of Princes. He had just undergone a public strip search. It was even embarrassing to show one's naked body it front of one's family, so one can easily imagine the humiliation Kurda went through. However, years behind bars had taught him to be extra thick-skinned, therefore embarrassment did not get into Kurda easily.

"Well, you know…" Darren started, but broke off with a shrug.

"No, I don't," Kurda raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you do!" Darren argued.

"I don't!"

"Shut up!" Arrow broke off the 'conversation'.

"Can you all just get on with whatever it is?" Kurda snapped. He had gotten up from the wrong side of bed that day and was extremely grouchy. Trust me, the best thing you can ever do when you come across a grouchy Kurda is to avoid him.

"We need to ask you something. If, only if, I said that we have already selected a Prince and the nominee was you, what will you say?" Mika asked seriously.

Kurda stared him for a nanosecond before cracking up.

"You know what? I would say, 'go to hell'," he managed to say in between guffaws.

"Look here, Smahlt, we are being very seriously her OK?" Arrow growled.

"Fine," Kurda grabbed a hold on himself.

"We took a vote, and the results were astonishing. Practically all of them are willing to let you have another shot at this thing," Larten said calmly, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, right," Kurda rolled his eyes. "Can we just stop this sick…" before he could complete his sentence, Mika raised his voice.

"Who here approves of Kurda leading us?" a thunderous roar went up as everyone raised their hand.

"No… No way!" Kurda screamed and ran out of the hall.

"I will go and try to get him to listen to some sense," Larten offered then took off after Kurda.

"I think we must have scared him," Vancha said in a small voice.

Kurda did not go back to his cell that night, but on the next night, just after dusk, Larten found him on the peak of Vampire Mountain, 'staring' at the night sky. He settled himself down next to him and lay back looking at the tsars twinkling.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

"True, even its beauty can be sensed from the heart," Kurda answered.

"True, true," A moment of silence followed.

"I supposed you have come to ask about yesterday?" Kurda enquired.

"I am, but just to inform you, when you sneaked out and disappeared for the whole two days, you could have thought about what will happen afterwards."

"Are you implying that I will be punished?"

"Yes, especially after what had happened in the Hall of Princes."

"But in the first place, nobody gave me any warning! I know you all were choosing another Prince, but… I didn't know…"

"I understand they actually picked me, but I…" Larten broke off awkwardly.

"I bet you refused," Kurda grinned. Larten nodded.

"I honestly thought it was a joke! Like it wasn't bad enough," Kurda complained.

"What was not bad enough?" Larten asked curiously.

"I mean, come on, being a Prince whose body has been seen by other people must be so fun," Kurda muttered sarcastically. Larten threw back his head and laughed.

"So that is what our dear friend is worried about!"

Kurda rolled his eyes.

"So does that mean you will think about it?" Larten probed again.

"Maybe," Kurda replied absent-mindedly as he picked himself up.

-Should I accept? Am I now thinking of my own self more that the clan's interest? This is what I have been waiting for: a second chance to prove myself. The only problem is the second chance I wanted was not such a big responsibility. I only hoped I could undertake the Trials again or something similar… definitely not becoming a prince in such a short time. But if I don't accept, the clan will suffer and I will be despised more for putting my own before the clan's. What should I do?-


	6. Chapter 6

When Kurda went back to his cell, the two guards were enraged. They had been given a severe telling-off by the Princes and had nowhere to vent their anger.

"Where did you go?" One of the guards asked, the whip in his hands raining down Kurda with every syllable spoken.

Here, I would like to clarify something. Although a vampire's body is tougher than normal, a vampire's strength is great. When the guard lashed out, the stroke could cut cleanly through a human's arm, but luckily for Kurda, it only caused a deep wound.

"It's none… of… your… business," Kurda said through clenched teeth. The other guard lashed at him as well.

"You have nothing, Smahlt, no status, no dignity, nothing," he whispered menacingly. Kurda bit his lip to prevent himself from talking as he squatted on the floor, suffering in silence, as without clear vision he could not escape.

At long last the guards stepped back and admired their 'handiwork'. They shoved him roughly into the cell and slammed the door shut.

Kurda hobbled to his cabinet and fished out his medical supplies. In addition to his new injuries, his old injuries had also opened and blood was dripping all over the floor. Oh, and did I mention that it HURT?

Kurda shut his eyes and cleared his head. Slowly, he started bandaging his wounds as the medics said that if he used his spit, the wound will close but will leave a hollow space in the body. However, as he measured the length of bandage to be cut, his world went black.

This time when he woke, he saw nothing but blackness. This time, he knew that he had gone completely blind. This time, however, his spirits soared.

"You ok?" a voice asked concernedly from his side.

"Yeah, thanks!" he replied cheerily.

"Are you sure he isn't concussed or something?" Darren's voice asked anxiously.

"Don't worry," the medic reassured him. "He only has a blood clot."

Just then, Mika walked in. he sat on Kurda's bed. Kurda tried to sit up but again, realized that he was cuffed to the bed. Mika watched him with a peculiar look on his face – was it pity? – before opening his mouth.

"So, do you accept or not?" Kurda, upon hearing this question, rolled his eyes. Really!

"Huh?" he asked, feigning ignorance to stall for time.

"If so, then I shall take it as you have accepted, ok?" Arrow answered.

Kurda widened his eyes and shook his head.

"No, wait! Are you sure? I mean, after all I have done, and all the things that have happened, you want me to be your Prince?"

"Positive," A simple word from Larten soothed Kurda's frazzled nerves. After a long pause, Kurda finally nodded.

"Yay!" A loud cheer erupted from Darren as he bounded over and gave Kurda a big bear hug.

"Behave yourself," Larten snapped. "Mika has something to say."

"Ah, I knew there was a catch somewhere," Kurda commented dryly.

"Yes. We have expressed concern over your sentence, and of course, you will not be a figurehead. However, you are not to take a step out of the mountain and even if you do, we will know, as spies will be all around, reporting to us your every move."

"Like I can go anywhere in this state," Kurda muttered.

"I heard you," Arrow said irritably.

"Sorry," Kurda apologized immediately. "I just don't see the point of so many restrictions when I most probably can't break given my current state. I must have made history by becoming the Mountain's first convicted Prince!"

"You know what? I completely agree!" Mika joked.

"Oh yes, I remembered! There won't be an investiture and Vanez wants to see you for… something," Arrow added.

Kurda's mouth fell open. The period of time under Vanez was one of the worst memories in his life, and he certainly is not looking forward to another experience.

As he walked into the Hall of Games with Darren, Vanez came up and gave him a huge welcome.

"Don't bully him, okay?" Darren told Vanez. Vanez just smirked, ushered Darren out and pulled Kurda over to a path with blockages and handed him a stick.

"Just walk straight, but don't bang into anything. Use the stick to help you probe for anything that might be in your way," Vanez instructed.

Kurda started off uneasily. At first he was extremely cautious, but got clumsier and clumsier and before long had landed smack on his bottom, having tripped over a small rock.

"Ow!" Kurda moaned in pain as he rubbed his bottom.

"Get up!" Vanez heaved Kurda back up on his feet roughly. Grimacing, Kurda had no choice but to continue.

After weeks of falling down and clambering back up, Kurda finally mastered the art of walking with a stick without tripping. After he had completed the course that Vanez had set, he was so exhausted that he plopped down onto the floor.

"Oh man, this has got to be one of the toughest times I have ever experienced," Kurda panted, rubbing his sore muscles.

"Save your complaints," Vanez grunted bluntly. "You'll have to get past tunnels, halls and the vicinity outside the Mountain.

Kurda rolled to the floor in a mock faint.


	7. Chapter 7

All the Princes were out except for Kurda. There were only a few vampires left in the mountain. Of what Kurda knew, the Princes had gone to negotiate with the vampaneze to see what they can do to prevent the coming of their Lord.

Unexpectedly, a vampaneze burst in, a blood-stained sword in one hand, a blood-stained Larten Crepsley in the other. He slashed at Kurda's face and dragged him mercilessly out of the Mountain.

When they were a safe distance away from it, both vampires were gagged and bound before having their blindfold removed. Kurda struggled as the vampaneze removed his gag as while as Larten's, a group of his comrades at his side.

"Who are you?" Kurda asked demandingly. The vampaneze snickered aloud.

"Our peace-loving enemy, how do you do?"

Kurda's eyes widened as he registered their identity. However, he had no idea that he was not alone until Larten spoke.

"What do you want with us?"

The vampaneze snickered yet again and said nothing, only cut off their bonds on their legs before hauling them to their feet and ordering them to walk.

For a few consecutive nights they walked on, Larten helping Kurda along. During day they hid in caves, and while the vampaneze dined on deer, they fed on scraps. On the first time, Larten refused to eat.

"Just swallow it!" Kurda force-fed him.

"What about you?" Larten asked, pushing Kurda away from him.

"I've been through this far longer than you have, so just shut up and eat it up!" Kurda growled and Larten finally gave in.

Often, the vampaneze made sure they did not leave food uneaten. Once, this went on for so long that Kurda cut himself and drunk from the wound.

"Blood can replenish itself but an empty stomach can't," Kurda explained.

And so they walked.

Back in Vampire Mountain, the Princes were combing the whole place upside down for Kurda and Larten.

"Both of them can't have just disappeared into thin air, can they?" Vancha asked crossly.

"Look at the blood on the floor, especially in Larten's cell. Obviously somebody came and 'invited' them out," Mika reasoned, pointing at bloodstains on the floor. Darren creased his head in worry while Vancha examined the blood.

"I think I know who the culprit is," Vancha mused aloud after a while.

Kurda collapsed for the second time. The tedious journey was taking its toil on the already severely hurt ex-General. The vampaneze pulled him up roughly and delivered a blow across his face hard.

"Stop it!" Larten growled, helping Kurda up. The vampaneze advanced menacingly towards them.

"Stop!" A vampaneze cried out behind them. At the sound of his voice, Kurda raised his head up hopefully. The vampaneze spotted Kurda and hauled him up to his feet them embraced Kurda warmly.

"Long time no see, Smahlt."

"You too, Gannen," Kurda grinned painfully, Gannen ordered his bonds cut and they walked side by side, catching up on everything.

"Your eyes…" Gannen asked hesitantly.

"Nothing, really," Kurda reassured him.


	8. Chapter 8

When they reached the vampaneze hideout, Gannen put Kurda in one of the best rooms and had him treated like a distinguished guest. But Kurda had other worries.

"What will your lot do to Larten?" he asked anxiously.

"Ah… somebody else will be taking care of him," Gannen replied, choosing his words with care.

"I want to see him!" Kurda demanded. Gannen sighed. He then got his guards to bring Larten in. Kurda ran a hand over Larten's back and immediately 'glared' at Gannen.

"I'm going to switch places with him. He hasn't been through all these at all," Kurda old him coldly. Larten stared at Kurda in wide-eyed disbelief and so did Gannen.

"But… I won't be in charge of that…" Gannen tried to talk Kurda out off it.

"You know me, Gannen. Once my mind is made up, you can't un-change it. Oh, and by the way, can you get some medical supplies and tend to his wounds?" Kurda asked before he started walking out of the room.

"Treat him like you will me, OK?" Gannen requested. Gannen merely nodded mutely.

"As for you, sleep, recuperate with nothing in your mind, get it?" Kurda addressed Larten. Larten nodded mutely as Kurda trailed after the guards that brought Larten in.

A few days later, Larten asked to see Kurda. As instructed, Gannen brought him into a dinghy room where Larten recognized as where he was first held when brought here. Nobody paid any attention to them as they walked in silently.

Kurda was hanging in midair, but what was even scarier was the insane-looking vampaneze opposite him, sneering unpleasantly.

"Both of them were at loggerheads since Kurda first came here," Gannen explained in a low voice. "Perliat never agreed with Kurda's planes to reconcile with the vampires."

They gazed moved from his face to his hands which was gripping a blood-stained horsewhip. They then turned to look at Kurda, who was bleeding freely, before training their gaze onto the puddle of blood at Kurda's feet. The sight was so revolting that Larten turned to go out.

Just then, a pail of salt water was brought in. curious, Larten retraced his steps back into the room.

This time, though, he was spotted.

"You have a friend," he told Kurda sneeringly. "He shall serve as a very good audience."

"No! Go out! Go..." before Kurda could finish, Perliat slapped him hard. He dipped a finger into the salt and ran it slowly over Kurda's back, where his major wounds were. Seeing this, Larten tried it personally. He dipped a finger into the salt water cautiously and smeared it onto his wounds and gasped in pain. His wounds felt as though they were on fire.

Perliat, upon seeing no reaction from Kurda, took up the whole pail and splashed it straight at Kurda. Kurda chewed down on his lower lips to prevent himself from screaming aloud. Larten, as he was standing at the side, was subsequently hit a bit, and felt the pain sear through his whole body, and secretly marveled at how Kurda was taking this.

The door opened. Instinctively Kurda edged away from it and curled up his body in preparation for the blows that would be sure to come.

"It's me, Kurda," he thought he heard Darren say.

"No, it isn't! Darren doesn't know that I'm here!" Kurda yelled out loud.

"It's me, really!" Darren's voice rang out again. This time, Kurda started to believe that Darren's voice was not a figment of his imagination, that he was real, that he was standing in front of him now.

Darren stood in front of Kurda in frightened awe. He reached out a trembling hand and made contact with Kurda's tattered shirt. Kurda pulled back instinctively when Darren's hand connected. Darren withdrew his hand and to his horror, his hands were stained with blood.

At this time Kurda had flung himself onto Darren and hugged him tight. Then, to both Darren's and Gannen's surprise, Kurda broke down.

And cried.

He never knew how long he had slept, but by the time he had awoken, he could feel the weak rays of the morning sun beating down on him. Hurriedly he tried to move into some shade, but realized that his legs were not working properly. From afar, Mika and Vancha saw Kurda stumble, and flitted to his side.

"Thanks," Kurda mumbled, once they pulled him into a cave. Just then, Darren came rushing in at top speed.

"Oh good you're finally awake you slept for thirty whole hours and we're running late so we'd better go back," Darren gabbled nonsensically and tugged at Kurda's arms.

"Oh, so you found him. You should have the sense to come tell us," Vancha grumbled and set about following them back to the vampaneze hideout.

Back at the hideout, Kurda had a good wash, then a change of clothes. When he emerged in front of Larten, Darren, Mika and Vancha, he let out a confident smile.

"Finally! You look more like yourself now," Darren grinned and told Kurda.

"Oh?"

"Really, you used to smile a lot before you…" Vancha said, and then shut up as soon as he realized what he was saying.

"Yes?" Kurda prompted him teasingly.

Vancha shrugged.

"You were about to say 'before you were exposed as a traitor', am I correct?" Kurda told Vancha for him.

"You've got me," Vancha put up his hands in a mock surrender.

"On this subject, Kurda," Mika began seriously. "We all – Arrow included – wish that you can go back to your old self, the self-confident and ever-optimistic General Smahlt."

"Easier said than done," Kurda shook his head bitterly. "How? If you put yourself in my shoes, you'll be wondering why am I still alive to this day, instead of committing suicide."

Suddenly, Kurda's face lit up. He ran out of the room and knocked an eavesdropper down to the ground.

"Such a lousy friend you are, Zerrick," Kurda grumbled playfully to a young-looking vampaneze. "I bet you avoided me on purpose when you heard I was here."

"Too right you are," the vampaneze chuckled. They grinned at each other and embraced. Zerrick examined Kurda closely.

"That must have hurt," he said sympathetically. "You are so stupid; you obviously knew that Perliat would find any excuse just to make trouble for you."

"Whatever," Kurda replied.

Kurda did not expect that they could leave so early, so when he heard that they were free to go, his jaw dropped a thousand miles. But the unexpected incident that happened the next evening was even more amazing.

When Kurda woke up, he realized that his head was no longer throbbing, as it did every time he woke up from sleep. He walked to the bucket of water and washed his face. He stared into the water at his reflection and all of a sudden, it clicked.

"Get up!" Kurda yelled in Darren's ear.

"Wh… what?" Darren mumbled sluggishly, half-asleep.

"Look at my eyes!" Kurda yelled again. By this time Kurda had already awoken several vampires.

"His… his eyes are so… normal," Vancha noted and whispered in awe. Darren had also noted the change.

"He can see!" Darren whooped for joy. Kurda grinned. Almost immediately, Mika rushed over and checked Kurda's eyes.

"The blood clot is gone so his sight is fine!" Mika explained joyously.

The first thing Kurda did was to check himself in a mirror. He saw the states of his injuries, but what worried him most was actually his face!

"Ow!" he exclaimed as he touched the wound on his cheek and the nasty-looking bruise on his forehead. He peered into the mirror again.

"Why is it that I have become half the width of myself a few years back?" he pondered aloud. Everyone in the room started sniggering immediately.


	9. Chapter 9

When they got to Vampire Mountain, Kurda immediately got two medics to give him a full check. When he was done, he went to help check Larten's wounds.

"I'm sorry," he said as he attended to his wounds. "I didn't know they would have you tortured so seriously."

"It is not your fault," Larten reassured Kurda, and then they both lapped into thoughtful silence.

"Why do you think the vampaneze let us go?" Both of them suddenly asked each other at the same time. Kurda laughed.

"Beats me," he said, pondering. "We didn't get to see whoever that's in charge, but I think that we were definitely released on his orders."

"But why?" Larten mused aloud, asking the most baffling question of all. "You were the best person to kidnap after the Princes."

Kurda shrugged.

"No idea," he answered. "Maybe it was someone we know?"

Larten shook his head disbelievingly and went quiet. From his somber facial expressions, Kurda could tell that he was worried. He too, fell silent, helping Larten bandage his wounds and at the same time, contemplating the uncertain future.

Kurda was snoring loudly when Vanez stepped into his cell with the other Princes. They sat down and decided not to disturb Kurda's slumber as he had not slept well for quite a long period of time.

"He's a nice guy, just that he's had a horrible life," Vanez sighed.

"I'd never heard of him speak of his human years before," Darren brought up the subject rather abruptly.

"I only have the rough picture of what happened ……" Vanez began as Kurda let out a too-loud-to-be-true snore and rolled off the bed onto the floor and blinked.

"I'll tell my life story myself, if you please," Kurda started mildly. "All of you have different reasons for becoming a vampire, maybe you craved for power or just the super-naturalness. My reason was that I became an outcast of society.

"I won't elaborate on my younger years – I went to school and got into trouble – but the major turning point of my life was that I was convicted of murder, a death sentence, but it was turned to manslaughter. I must have spent at least five years on the death row and fifteen years in prison at around sixteen."

"That young?" Darren burst out. Kurda grinned sadistically at him.

"I was a co-founder of a street-gang." Darren nodded and bade him to continue.

"I studied in prison and earned my diploma in there as well. When I was released on parole, I wanted to turn over a new leaf. Therefore I left my hometown to other cities where I could begin life over again.

"But as you all know, finding a job is twice as difficult for an ex-convict. Try as I might, nobody wanted to employ a killer. So, I gave up all thoughts of settling down properly and decided to just roam the world. Then, by luck, I met Vancha, got hooked up into the vampire world, and I was blooded."

"Oh! No wonder you never had any pleasure in fighting," Vanez exclaimed, understanding dawning on him.

"Once bitten, twice shy," Kurda grinned bitterly. "Even if that quote isn't definitely accurate used in my case."

"Then that explains your peaceful nature!" Mika finally understood.

Kurda nodded.

"I found out from Vancha that vampaneze were once united with us, I just decided to take a gamble and see if I can succeed in getting them to reunite with us again."

"Only that the mini-gamble turned into a life-and-death gamble and you HAD to make a choice, isn't it?" Darren finished for Kurda. Kurda laughed.

"That's about it."

"Not many people know about my background," Kurda began ticking off names. "Gavner Purl, Vancha, Vanez… no one else. I only tell it to people whom I really, really trust. I had to tell you since you accepted me into your ranks, except that I wanted to tell you personally."

Kurda stressed on the last word and shot a fierce glare at Vanez who was snickering.

"Relax, we won't tell anyone, right?" Darren piped up and everyone in the cell nodded in unison.

"But…" Kurda hesitated.

"Go on," Larten prompted encouraging.

"What do you think about me now? Has my impression changed?" Kurda asked worriedly.

"No!" Vancha burst out into hysterical bouts of laughter.

Kurda grinned, his heart calming down.

Back in the Hall of Princes after a quick chat with Kurda, the Princes discussed Kurda's past at length.

"He's a pitiable soul, that one," Darren commented dryly. "And that must be this year's understatement." Vancha nodded his agreement.

"I never knew," Mika muttered, voice trembling.

"Me neither," Larten said softly. "I guess we were not that popular with him."

"If I'd known, I'd… I'd…" Arrow choked, shaking his head and looking utterly disgusted with himself.

"We didn't!" Vancha howled in anguish, letting his sadness, anger and shock rush over him. "We had him imprisoned, we almost killed him because of a foolish mistake we made of not believing him, we also turned him blind! For our stupidity, he suffered the consequences. Why? Because nobody ever had the sense to sit him down, talk to him, interact with him and try to understand him!"

Just then, Vancha whirled around to see Kurda standing behind him chuckling, a twinkle in his eyes.

"I didn't blame you!" he chortled. "I never blamed anybody in the first place, so why start blaming yourselves? I deserved what I got; it's completely fair."

"If Paris was here, he would definitely be able to clear these up," Darren mumbled sadly, staring up at the ceiling of the Hall of Princes as though he can see the night sky beyond. Larten squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"Don't we all," Kurda replied quietly, bowing his head.


End file.
